


"COLD AS ICE"

by Slasherfem



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 10:36:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13144860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slasherfem/pseuds/Slasherfem
Summary: A Christmas story about how your past can catch up to you in the most unexpected way.





	"COLD AS ICE"

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Merrie Kapp](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Merrie+Kapp).



> DISCLAIMER: Christmas always makes me nostalgic for the past. It’s been a while since I published a Garak/Bashir story. It’s been a while since I wrote this one, which was originally published in SATYRNALIA #3, May 1997; reprinted here with slight revisions by me. A Merry Christmas to you, Kathleen Resch, for believing in me enough to publish my story in the first place. And a special note of thanks to Merrie Kapp, the fan who contacted me about this story because the ending had been left off of whatever site she found it on. Here it is, Merrie, revised and republished just for you!  
> As usual, I borrowed these characters from Star Trek: Deep Space Nine with no intention of profiting from them, so please tell the Ferengis in suits who work for Paramount/Viacom/Disney et al to leave me alone.

Two men walked side by side through a snowy English countryside that looked like a scene from Currier and Ives, with children sledding down hills and building snowmen, adult couples riding in one-horse open sleighs, carolers going from house to house singing traditional Christmas carols. Both men were bundled up in the full-length, caped overcoats fashionable in Victorian England. The younger one wore a tall, shiny black top hat. The older man wore a deerstalker cap with flaps that fell over his ears, as he was more sensitive to the cold than his companion. Which wasn’t surprising, since he was a Cardassian.

“I don’t know why I let you talk me into this,” Elim Garak grumbled to Doctor Julian Bashir. “I had enough of snow my first year on Bajor. Being transferred to Terok Nor was the best thing that could have happened to me. It kept me from ever coming in contact with that nasty white stuff again.”

“I just wanted to share my favorite Christmas fantasy with you,” Bashir said, smiling at him from beneath the brim of his top hat. “It just doesn’t feel like Christmas to me without a really heavy snowfall.”

“It doesn’t snow at all on Cardassia. Unlike your planet, ours has an untilted axis, which means it’s warm all year round. The average temperature is a decent eighty degrees Fahrenheit and nobody has to dress up in these ridiculous outfits.” Garak hated the heavy wool garments he was wearing as much as the restrictive thermal suit he had been forced to wear upon his arrival on Bajor during the Cardassion occupation.

“Oh, stop complaining!” Bashir said with undiminished cheerfulness. “The outfits are supposed to help us blend in with the crowd. And you’re in no danger of freezing. I programmed the temperature not to fall below twenty degrees until after sundown.”

“My blood will turn to ice by then!” Garak lamented. “How much longer must we stay in this holosuite?”

“Come on, Elim,” Bashir coaxed. “I don’t ask for much. The least you can do is keep me company in my Christmas fantasy. You don’t have to participate in any of the activities, as long as you allow me to enjoy them.”

“Oh, very well,” Garak sighed, weakening as always before the younger man’s enthusiasm. Since they had become lovers, he found it difficult to deny Julian anything he asked for. The boy had him wrapped around his little finger and he knew it. As Garak shuffled along through the ankle-deep snow with his gloved hands stuffed into his pockets, he wondered: _*Why are humans so sentimental about Christmas, anyway? I thought it was a religious holiday, but it seems more like an excuse to overspend, overeat, and drink until you pass out. The only ones who seen to benefit from it are the children.*_ His gaze softened as he studied his young lover’s profile. _*Well, Julian is still a boy at heart. And if it makes him happy to walk through the snow until his feet are numb, I’ll accompany him until I get too cold to move.*_

He knew he was taking a big risk being out in such cold weather for a prolonged period, even in a holosimulation. Cardassians were descended from reptiles, which meant they were not at their best in the cold. If he started getting sleepy, he would have to get out of the holosuite before he fell into a cold-induced hibernation.

They strolled through the picturesque English countryside, following a path which led to a quaint little village in the distance, passing other people headed for the village to do their Christmas shopping. Bashir looked happily about him, reveling in the traditional Christmas scene. Like Garak, he’d grown up in a desert environment, but he had been educated in London before joining Starfleet, so he was more familiar with English Christmases. He’d always enjoyed spending the holidays visiting his schoolmates at the university, most of whom came from happy families with loving parents who didn’t mind making room for one more at the dinner table. The only bad part of the holidays was having to go home to his old-fashioned, traditionalist parents in the Sudan. Sighing nostalgically, Bashir put his arm through Garak’s so they wouldn’t get separated in the growing crowd.

Surprised by his lover’s open display of affection, Garak felt a bit awkward at first. When he noticed that nobody seemed to be surprised or shocked by the sight of two men walking arm in arm, he relaxed. _*Either Julian has programmed them to accept any loving gesture we make toward each other, or this is a less restrictive era, when men could be as demonstrative as they liked without fear of censure.*_ Blissfully ignorant of how repressive it had been in Victorian England, Garak walked happily beside his lover until they reached a bend in the path. As they came around the bend, Garak saw that the path now ran beside a lake, which was frozen solid enough to support a party of skaters.

The sight of the frozen lake stopped Garak in his tracks. He stood staring at it silently until Bashir asked, “Elim, what’s wrong?”

“What? Oh!” Garak came out of his trance and smiled reassuringly at him. “Forgive me, Julian, but I hope you weren’t planning to ask me to skate. I have no coordination on ice whatsoever, and invariably end up skating on my backside.”

Bashir laughed. “Don’t worry, I said you didn’t have to participate in any of the activities. But I hope you don’t mind if I indulge.” Releasing Garak’s arm, he walked toward the frozen lake.

“What are you doing?” Garak asked anxiously.

“I’m going to slide across the ice,” Bashir informed him gleefully. “I’ve always loved doing it, since I was a kid. After I replicated these outfits for us, I didn’t have enough credits left for a pair of ice skates, but that doesn’t mean I have to deprive myself.” Stepping carefully onto the ice, he spread his arms out and slid across the ice on the soles of his boots, laughing merrily.  

Watching Bashir slide across the frozen lake made Garak’s heart pound, and he began to sweat in spite of the cold. “Julian,” he called in an unsteady voice, “don’t do that, please.”

Bashir didn’t hear him. He kept sliding across the ice, laughing when he nearly slipped at the end of each slide. Garak followed alongside on shore, calling anxiously, “Julian, come back, please!” He gingerly avoided setting foot on the ice himself as he keep beseeching his lover to get off it. “Julian, don’t do that! That’s not safe! Come back on shore, please!”

“Oh, don’t be such a worry wart!” Bashir was enjoying himself too much to notice his lover’s anxiety. Holding his top hat down with one hand, he pushed himself forward on one foot, gliding across the ice holding one let up behind him, like a figure skater. The cold winter wind turned his cheeks red and made his eyes water, but he loved the feel of it on his face. He wished Garak could relax and enjoy it with him.

“Julian!” Garak now said, loudly and angrily. “Stop that and get over here, right now!”

Bashir glided to a stop and stared at him over one shoulder, astonished by his lover’s vehemence. “What?” he said, unable to believe it was Garak speaking to him like that.

“I said get over here! RIGHT NOW!” Garak gestured impatiently, the anger in his voice warning Julian that he meant business.

Bashir quickly slid over to the lake’s edge where Garak stood. When he was close enough, Garak grabbed his arm and pulled him up on shore. Wrapping his arm around him, he led him away from the lake, holding him protectively against his side. Bashir felt him trembling beneath the heavy overcoat and thought: *H _e must be getting chilled._ _No wonder he’s so irritable!*_

“I’m sorry, Elim,” he apologized meekly. “I didn’t realize how cold you were getting, standing around watching me.”

“No harm done,” Garak said gruffly, allowing Julian to think that it was his own discomfort which made him so ill-tempered. “But let’s find a warm place to have lunch before we both freeze.”

“As you wish,” Julian murmured, thinking that Garak must really be bad at skating to be so vehement against it. He cast a brief look of regret back at the frozen lake as Garak led him up the snowy path to town.

******** 

They had lunch at an old-fashioned English teashop; hot mushroom soup with fresh baked bread, followed by tea with spicy gingerbread topped with whipped cream. After lunch they strolled around town looking in the shop windows, Garak making many droll comments about the merchandise on display, much to Julian’s amusement. When a group of giggling street urchins ran by them throwing snowballs and one of them hit Garak, his good mood dissolved.

     “I should have brought along a phaser,” he muttered, giving the children a dirty look as he brushed snow off his coat.

     “Elim!” Bashir exclaimed, wide-eyed with dismay. “You wouldn’t really shoot the children, would you?”

     “Well, I’d certainly enjoy scorching the little brats’ behinds as they scampered away.” Just then a constable came along and sent the children on their way with a stern word and a wave of his billy club. “What a pity,” Garak said. “Just as I was about to retaliate in kind.”

     “You mean like this?” Bashir brought out the snowball he’d been hiding behind his back and threw it.

     “Why, you-!” Garak sputtered indignantly as he wiped snow off his face. Bashir laughed until he saw him bend over to scoop up a handful of snow and start shaping it into a ball. The doctor took off running. Garak finished his snowball before pursuing him. Catching up with him at the end of the block, he threw the snowball, hitting Julian right in the middle of the back. The strolling Christmas shoppers were then treated to the sight of two grown men having a snowball fight, to the amusement of many, though some of the older shoppers were heard commenting disapprovingly on the impropriety of such behavior, and the bad example they were setting for the youngsters.

     Eventually they resumed their stroll through the town. As the streets became darker with approaching night and the lamplighters were lighting the street lamps, Bashir noticed that his friend was walking slower and slower, and seemed to have difficulty standing up as well. Finally Garak caught hold of a street lamp and leaned against it like a drunk.

     “Elim, are you all right?”

     “I think I’ve been here too long, Julian.” Garak’s voice was so slurred, he even sounded drunk. His scaly face had gone from its normal greyish-white to a white as pale as the snow. “The cold is starting to affect me. Let’s leave now, please.”

     Alarmed by Garak’s looks, Bashir said “Of course we’ll go now. Here, lean on me, I’ll take you to your quarters.” He took Garak by the arm and led him to an alley across the street, the Cardassian leaning on him more heavily with each step.

     When they reached the alley Bashir called out, “Computer, arch!” A doorway appeared in the alley and Bashir led Garak through it. As they exited, Bashir told the computer, “Save program C25, Bashir/White Christmas, and end it.” The computer obligingly saved the winter wonderland before ending the simulation.

     Once they were outside, Bashir waited until Garak’s system had adjusted to the warmer temperature of the station before leading him down the stairs. As they reached the foot of the stairs, Quark spotted them and called to them cheerfully from behind the bar.

     “Good evening, Doctor! Did you and Garak enjoy your program?”

     “Yes, thank you, Quark. But I’m afraid we were in there a bit too long. Garak needs warming up. Do you have any Saurian brandy?”

     The Ferengi bartender produced a bottle of the beverage, which Julian snagged with one hand on his way out as he continued to prop Garak up with the other. “Thanks, Quark. Put it on my tab.”

     “You’re welcome.” Quark resumed serving his customers as Garak and Bashir left, heading for the Cardassian’s quarters above his tailor shop.

********

     An hour later Garak was relaxing in a hot bath, sipping a glass of Saurian brandy. He’d originally had the bath installed for Julian, knowing how much the human enjoyed bathing in water. He preferred sonics himself. But he had to admit that at times like this, a hot bath could be very satisfying, relaxing his tense muscles while warming him right down to his frostbitten toes. Julian insisted that they hadn’t been in the program long enough for either of them to get frostbitten, but what did he know about Cardassian physiology? Only what Garak had taught him. He smiled to himself as he remembered what a fast learner Julian was.

     Julian himself appeared in the doorway, carrying fresh towels. “Feeling better?”

     “Yes,” Garak sighed, sinking deeper into the hot, fragrant water. Julian had added a musk-scented bath oil to keep his scales smooth.

     “I thought you would.” The doctor hung the towels within reach and sat down at the end of the tub where Garak’s head was. “Do you think you could manage to sit up?” he asked, rolling up the sleeves of his uniform. “So I can scrub your back?”

     “If you insist.” Garak sat up and leaned forward so that his beloved human could have easier access to his back. Here was another advantage to bathing in water, having a willing companion to scrub your back for you.

     Bashir dipped a sponge in the water and rubbed it vigorously across the Cardassian’s broad back. Garak practically purred with pleasure, closing his eyes as he enjoyed his lover’s ministrations. Bashir smiled, enjoying the sight of the powerful Cardassian becoming putty in his hands. He was relieved to see that Garak’s skin had regained its normal greyish-white coloring. Scrubbing him like this also helped to restore his circulation, which had become sluggish from the cold.

     But it wasn’t all therapeutic. While Julian scrubbed his back with one hand, his other hand massaged Garak’s neck muscles, gradually working its way forward until he was stroking the scaly ridge above one of his nipples. When his fingers began gently pinching the nipple, Garak opened his eyes.

     “Julian,” he said severely, looking down at the human’s wandering hand, “what are you up to?”

     “Nothing,” Bashir said sweetly, continuing to pinch Garak’s inky nipple until it rose to a peak.

     “You wouldn’t be trying to seduce me, Doctor?”

     “Whatever gave you that idea?” Bashir asked, toying with the black pearl on Garak’s chest.

     “Oh, I’m so relieved,” Garak said, playing along. “I would hate to think you froze me half to death just to get me into this nice, hot bath so you could grope me.”

     Bashir began using both hands to massage his chest. “I didn’t realize Cardassian physiology was so different from ours,” he teased. “I usually become aroused after I’ve been sitting in a nice, hot bath for a while. Especially when somebody starts to grope me.”  

     “In that case, why don’t you join me?”

     Bashir laughed. “Because the tub isn’t big enough, silly man! Unlike the steam baths of Niniveh, that holoprogram you created for our anniversary.”

     “I’d much rather spend time with you in a hot tub than in a cold countryside.” Garak turned around to offer him a sip of brandy. Bashir accepted it, along with the kiss that followed, which became so intense that he nearly fell into the tub with Garak.

     “Elim!” he said breathlessly as he withdrew out of reach. “Behave yourself!”

     “You started it,” Garak reminded him, smiling at his blushing young face. “If you would prefer to finish it in bed, I suggest you withdraw and wait for me outside.”

     “All right, but hurry! I’ll have dinner ready for you.”

     “I doubt I’ll have much of an appetite for food!” Garak called after him, laughing at his hasty departure.

     Garak emerged from his bath so invigorated, he barely gave Bashir time to finish dinner before he was all over him. Delighted by his lover’s rapid recovery, Bashir didn’t object too strongly. He allowed himself to be stripped and every inch of his body to be kissed, licked or nibbled before his legs were thrown over Garak’s sturdy shoulders and he was slowly impaled on the Cardassian’s long, hard cock, glistening with lubricant, its black head seeping liquid. The human’s moans of delight became near screams of ecstasy as Garak fucked him the way he liked it best, hard and fast, filling him to the brim over and over again. Just when Bashir thought he couldn’t take any more, he felt himself explode in orgasm, felt the hot semen bursting from his swollen cock and being smeared between their bellies. His cry of release triggered his lover’s climax, and Garak’s frenzied thrusting ended in one final, deep thrust that embedded him deep within the human’s body, filling it with his seed.

     Afterwards, Garak had just enough strength to wipe himself and his lover clean with the little towel kept handy for that purpose, before pulling up the covers and taking the lithe, brown body into his arms. Bashir sighed in contentment as he rested his head on the musk-scented chest plate, its scales as soft as butter beneath his own smooth cheek. The lights dimmed, gradually going out altogether as the room’s sensors detected that the life signs of the two bodies on the bed indicated that they had passed into REM sleep.

********

     Garak dreamed that he and Bashir were walking through the doctor’s holographic winter wonderland. When they came to the frozen lake, Garak tried to hold him back, but Bashir slipped through his fingers and started sliding across the ice again. He was laughing like the carefree boy he still was in so many ways, at least to Garak, when suddenly the ice broke beneath him  and he was plunged into the freezing water.

     “Julian!” Garak cried. He ran to help him, but the cold had made him so sluggish he could barely move his legs. It felt as if he had lead weights on his boots. Bashir’s head and shoulders were the only thing visible as he struggled to climb out of the hole in the ice.

     “Elim!” he cried. “Elim, help me!”

     Garak ran as fast as he could, but it wasn’t fast enough. He saw Bashir’s struggles becoming weaker as the frigid water saturated his heavy winter clothing and stole his body heat. His dark head sank lower and lower until his cries for help became gurgles as the water filled his mouth. Garak threw himself down on his hands and knees and crawled to the hole in the ice, but his lover’s head was already disappearing beneath the cold, black water. He plunged both arms into the hole, but they became numb so fast he couldn’t feet anything.

     “No, no!” Garak moaned, still trying to locate his beloved human beneath the ice. “Julian, where are you? Julian!”

     He could feel hot tears running down his face as he kept fishing for Julian with his numb arms through the hole in the ice. The tears froze on his face before he finally gave up and allowed himself to sink head first into the hole, feeling the cold, black water engulf him as he kept calling his lover’s name..

********

     “Julian! Julian!” Garak’s thrashing and moaning finally woke his lover.

     “Elim, wake up!” Bashir shook him as hard as he could. “You’re having a nightmare! Wake up!”

     The Cardassian finally awoke, gasping for breath. When he realized he wasn’t underwater and Bashir was lying safely beside him, he grabbed him and clutched him to his chest. “Julian! Oh, my love, my dear love, my beautiful boy...” He almost smothered him with kisses. Bashir suffered himself to be loved until he felt his ribs aching beneath his lover’s powerful grip.

     “Elim, let go!” he gasped. “You’re hurting me!”

     Garak relaxed his grip, but did not relinquish his hold. “My precious boy,” he whispered, “I thought you were dead. I saw you fall through a hole in the ice. You were drowning and I couldn’t get to you. I ran as fast as I could, but the cold slowed me down. I couldn’t get to you in time.”

     “It was just a dream, Elim. Just a dream.”

     Bashir soothed Garak with comforting strokes until he felt his frantic heartbeat slow to its normal pace, and his scales, which had become hard-edged and erect with fright, became smooth and flat once more. “You were having a bad dream about my Christmas fantasy holoprogram. I’m sorry I scared you by sliding on the ice. You must have had a very bad experience once.”

     “Yes, I did,” Garak murmured as he held him close. “A very bad experience.” 

     “Do you want to talk about it?”

     Garak hesitated. “I supposed I better tell you, so you’ll understand better why I hate snow, ice and cold so much.”

     “All Cardassians do, don’t they? You come from a desert planet.”

     “That’s not the only reason why I hate the cold.” Garak cradled Bashir in his arms, taking comfort from his nearness and body heat as he spoke. “When I first came to Bajor, it was the dead of winter. My battalion, the 31st Mechanized Infantry, had orders to build a bridge on the Zulimon River, in the Dahkur province.” The province’s name sounded familiar to Bashir, but he couldn’t remember where he’d heard it before. “The previous bridge had been blown up by the local terrorists—or freedom fighters, depending upon which side you were on—as they retreated from our initial advance, to prevent us from advancing any further. As we marched toward the Zulimon River, we had to pass through one of the local villages. Naturally our reception was not a friendly one. The Bajorans there were a sullen, hostile bunch, mostly women and children and old people.   They didn’t try to stop us, but they did let us know how they felt about our presence. Insults and threats were hurled at us in passing, along with rocks and rotten vegetables.

     “Our commanding officer, Gul Duran, was a young hothead who despised Bajorans. He was the sort who would kill ten Bajorans if one Cardassian was killed. He’d been recently reprimanded for taking too much time to exact bloody reprisals against the civilian population. It was imperative to Central Command that the bridge be rebuilt as soon as possible, so he had orders not to indulge himself on this occasion. He managed not to lose his temper as we were showered with verbal abuse and various missiles on our way through the village. Of course it was easier for him to ignore it, being up front. It was us poor bastards in the rear who were getting the worst of it. Anyway, as we were passing through the marketplace, a group of young boys, hardly more than children, began taunting us and throwing snowballs. One of them hit Gul Duran in the face. It had a rock inside, which cut his face pretty badly.

     “That did it. Gul Duran blew up and ordered us to fire on the youngsters. Some of us protested that we had not come here to fight children, but he threatened to court martial us all if we disobeyed. So we drew our weapons, but by an unspoken consensus we fired over the boys’ heads to scare them away. The boys did run off, but that wasn’t enough for Duran. He ordered us to pursue them, so we did, still firing over their heads.

     “We chased the boys down to a lake, which was a tributary of the Zulimon River. The lake was frozen over and the boys started sliding over the surface of the ice, heading for a clump of evergreens on the opposite side where they could hide from us. We stopped on the shore, thinking it had gone far enough, but Duran still wasn’t satisfied. He ordered us to cross the lake and find the boys, root them out of their hiding places and bring them all to him, so he could find out which one had thrown the rock-filled snowball that hit him. He intended to settle the score with this one personally.

     “Despite what you may have heard about Cardassian atrocities during the occupation, none of us was eager to see children tortured. So we crossed the frozen lake as slowly as possible, trying to give the boys enough time to get away. Before we were halfway across, I heard the ice cracking under our feet. We all heard it, but that damned fool Duran was so obsessed with getting revenge, he ordered us to keep going. Sure enough, the ice soon broke beneath us, casting us all into the freezing water. While we were foundering around trying to pull ourselves out, a group of Bajoran terrorists came out of the clump of evergreens that the boys had disappeared into. They lined up on the opposite shore and opened fire on us.”

     “My God!” Bashir exclaimed. “They used the kids to lure you into an ambush!”

     “Yes, and it worked beautifully. They knew that the ice on the lake was too thin to support the weight of thirty adult Cardassians, but half a dozen Bajoran children could cross it safely. When the Bajorans ceased firing, there were only three of us left alive. I was one of them. Had to hide behind the body of one of my comrades to do it, but I survived. I also had to play dead until the Bajorans left. It took quite a while, as they were all laughing, singing and pounding each other on the back, congratulating themselves on a successful ambush. The boys even came out of the bushes and threw rocks at us, to make sure we were dead.

     “I was floating between two dead men, Julian, feeling my arms and legs go numb with cold while these little bastards threw rocks that hit me in the face and head, but I managed not to move or make a sound. When they finally left, I was able to climb over the frozen body of one of my comrades, who’d been hit by phaser fire while he was climbing out of the hole. Two others managed to climb out after me, but I was the only one who could still move my frozen fingers enough to use my communicator to summon help.”

     “Poor Elim.” Bashir hugged him and pulled the covers more snugly around them as Garak shivered from the memory of his icy ordeal. “Did you suffer any ill effects from your dunking?”

     “Yes, all three of us caught pneumonia. The other two died. I survived and was transferred to Terok Nor, now known as Deep Space Nine. I never set foot on Bajor again. I was unable to describe any of the terrorists who shot at us, so none of them was ever captured.”

     “Was Gul Duran one of the survivors?”

     “No, he was among the first to die when the Bajorans opened fire. They did him a favor. If he hadn’t died there, he would have been court martialed and executed for disobeying orders. That was the only good thing to come out of the whole incident. That and my transfer to Terok Nor.” Garak pulled Julian closer and hugged him like a child hugging a teddy bear to keep away the nightmares. “Seeing you sliding across the ice today brought it all back to me. I was afraid you would fall through the ice too, and I’d lose you.”

     “But it was only a holoprogram!” Bashir protested.

     “It felt very real to me, Julian. So did the fear.”

     “I’m sorry I scared you, Elim. I didn’t know about your traumatic experience on the ice.”

     “How could you? I never told anybody before now.” Garak stroked the smooth, brown features beneath his scaly hand, which felt warm and soft as fine leather on Bashir’s beardless face. “I would appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone else. It was not the proudest moment of my military career, being lured into ambush by a group of children.”

     “Did Central Command take reprisals against the village where this occurred?”

     “Yes. All the farmers’ fields were poisoned, forcing them to buy their food supplies from the next village, which was a long journey overland. And when we finished rebuilding the bridge, we charged them a heavy toll to cross over it to the nearest village.”

     Bashir shook his head at the absurdities of war. “Go to sleep, Elim. I’ll keep you warm the rest of the night so you won’t have any more nightmares. Unless you’d prefer another blanket?”

     “No, my dear boy, you’ll do very nicely.” Garak pulled him closer, caressing his buttocks lovingly. Bashir laughed and laid his head on the Cardassian’s chest plate once more. It took a while for them to fall asleep, as Garak insisted upon making love to him again, but Bashir didn’t mind.

********

     The following day, Doctor Bashir spent the entire morning inoculating the crew of a Tellerite merchant vessel against Nine Day Fever, after two of its crewmembers came down with it and had to be quarantined. On his way back to the Infirmary, he met Major Kira on the Promenade.

     “Hello, Julian,” she said, smiling. “Did you enjoy playing in the snow yesterday?”

     Bashir blushed like a kid as he smiled bashfully in return. “I guess Quark must have told you about my new holoprogram.”

     “Yes, after making a vulgar joke about sex being like snow.”

     Bashir’s smile became mischievous. “Because you never know how long it’s going to last or how many inches you’re going to get?”

     “You told him that joke, didn’t you?” Kira punched him playfully on the arm and he pretended to stagger against the bulkhead.

     “Not me, I swear! Don’t hit me again, please!” he begged, clutching his arm and moaning in pretended pain.

     “Oh, stop it! I just wanted to tell you that if you want to play in real snow, you should come to Bajor with me tomorrow. I’m spending the weekend in my home province and my oldest brother’s latest letter tells me there’s been a heavy snowfall recently. The lakes frozen over too, which means we can have a skating party on it, the way we used to when we were kids.”

     “Real snow? Real ice skating?” Bashir brightened at the thought. “Count me in! Where is your home province?”

     “Don’t you remember? It’s Dahkur.”

     “Dahkur?” An uneasy feeling came over him as he recognized the name of the place where Garak had been ambushed. To hide his uneasiness he said, “Oh, yes, isn’t that the place where you spent two weeks hiding from the militia, after Kai Winn sicced them on your friend Shakaar?”

     “Yes, for refusing to return two soil reclaimators,” Kira growled. “But that’s all behind us now.” She waved one hand dismissively. “All the soil that was poisoned by the Cardassians is now fertile again, ready for spring planting. And now that we no longer have to pay the Cardassians a toll to cross the bridge, we can invite all our cousins from the next village and make it a real family party.”

     Bashir became even more uneasy. “Nerys, did the Cardassians poison your province’s soil and charge a heavy toll on the bridge in reprisal for something that happened there during the war?”

     “Yes. How did you know?”

     “A—friend told me. Something about a battalion of Cardassians that was ambushed by the local terrorists—I mean freedom fighters,” he added hastily, seeing the look she gave him.

     “I thought the Cardassians had managed to suppress that incident,” Kira grumbled. “But yes, it’s true. The local freedom fighters arranged an ambush out by the lake, when they learned the Cardassians were sending a battalion of engineers to repair the bridge our people had blown up.”

     “Is it also true you used children to lure the Cardassians into the ambush?”

     “Yes, we did. In fact, my youngest brother was one of the kids sent to lure the Cardassians out to the lake,” Kira said proudly. “I wasn’t allowed to participate because I was only ten years old at the time. Nando was three years older than me, and he’d already done some scouting for the freedom fighters, so he and five other local boys who could throw straight were sent to harass the Cardassians by throwing snowballs. You see, the gul who was leading them was known to have a bad temper and he—”

     “How could your elders allow their children to risk themselves like that?”

     “Julian, this was war!” Kira reminded him impatiently. “Everybody had to do their part, even children. Nobody got hurt except the Cardassians. Boy, did they ever get hurt!” she laughed. “Can you imagine thirty grown men chasing a group of young boys over a half-frozen lake, because their CO was a young hothead who couldn’t let an injury by a Bajoran go unpunished? He got to soak his hot head in cold water when the ice broke under him and his entire battalion.” Kira’s eyes gleamed at the thought. “I sure would have liked to be there to see those Cardassians take a cold bath. And when our people came out of the bushes on the opposite shore and started shooting them while they were bobbing around in the lake—that must have been fun. Like shooting fish in a barrel, as they say on your world.”

     Bashir groaned and covered his face, imagining his lover bobbing around in the freezing water while Kira’s people shot at him.

     “What’s wrong with you?” Kira demanded. “Don’t tell me you feel sorry for the Cardassians? Oh, of course you do,” she said in disgust. “I should have guessed you’d feel that way on account of your ‘plain and simple tailor’ friend.”

     Horrified by her callousness, Bashir blurted out to her, “Nerys! Elim Garak was one of the Cardassians caught in that ambush! He was the sole survivor! The other two died of pneumonia. He almost died of it himself!”

     Kira’s disgusted expression became one of dismay. “Oh, Jullian, I’m sorry! I didn’t know your friend was one of the Cardassians we—Oh, the Prophets have mercy on us!”

     Bashir felt numb inside at the thought of how empty his life would have been without the ‘plain and simple tailor’ he’d fallen in love with. The realization that it was the brother of a friend who’d nearly brought about his lover’s death made him feel sick.

     “Nerys,” he said softly to the remorseful Kira, “I would appreciate it if you didn’t mention to Elim that your brother was one of the kids who lured him into that ambush. He’s not proud of that incident. He told me that he and his comrades deliberately fired over the kids’ heads to keep from hurting them. Elim and the others would have let them get away, but Gul Duran was determined to avenge himself on the boy who threw the snowball with the rock in it that cut his face.”

     “That was my brother Nando,” Kira confessed. “He was so proud of what he’d done, he bragged about it for weeks afterward. And my other two older brothers were among the freedom fighters who did the shooting. I’m so sorry, Julian. You know I never approved of your relationship with Garak, but as long as he doesn’t mistreat you, I have no real complaint against him—other than his being Cardassian.”

     “I suppose I can’t blame you for gloating,” Bashir sighed. “After all, there was a war on and Cardassians were the enemy then. But they’re not the enemy now, Nerys. So please try not to gloat too loudly over the number of Cardassians your people killed. At least, try not to do it in front of Garak.”

     “I promise you he won’t hear it from me,” Kira assured him. “Will you at least accompany me to Dahkar this weekend, so I can make it up to you with a real snowfall?”

     “Only if you let Garak come too.”

     “What?” Kira stared at him in astonishment. “Let Garak accompany us on a weekend visit to my home province? But he’s a Cardassian!”

     “He’s also my friend and lover. And he’s still haunted by memories of that ambush. I’d like him to revisit the site so he can exorcise the demons that still haunt him.”

     “I don’t know, Julian.” Kira sounded doubtful. “Aside from the fact that he’ll be surrounded by hostile Bajorans, are you sure it’s healthy for him to return to a place that has such bad memories for him?”

     “He must confront his fears in order to conquer them,” Bashir insisted. “On Earth, we have a saying that if you get thrown off a horse, you have to get right back on, or you may never ride again. Garak hasn’t seen snow since that day. Even sharing my holoprogram yesterday made him uneasy. I want him to see that Dahkar isn’t such a bad place after all, and that he has nothing to fear from the ice and snow.”

     “Well, all right. You’re the doctor. If you think revisiting Dahkar after all these years will help Garak, you can bring him along. I’d better let my brother know I’ll be bringing another guest.”

     “I hope he doesn’t disown you for bringing a Cardassian under his roof,” said Bashir with an apologetic smile.

     “No, I’ll just tell him he’s your friend, not mine. That means that you’ll be responsible for his conduct, Julian, so you’d better watch him!” she warned.

     “I promise I won’t leave his side the entire weekend.” Bashir told her with a grin.

     Kira sighed and rolled her eyes. “I hope that doesn’t mean you plan to spend the entire weekend in bed with him.”

     Bashir laughed and said, “Thank you, Nerys,” before he kissed her on the cheek and left. She stood looking after him, hands on her hips, shaking her red head doubtfully. 

********

     “We’re going to go where and do what?”

     Garak and Bashir were having lunch at their usual table in the Replimat, where Bashir had just finished telling him about Kira’s invitation to spend the weekend in Dahkar.

     “It’ll be fun, Elim! Just the thing you need to overcome the bad memories of your previous visit there.”

     “My dear boy, are you seriously suggesting that I go back to Bajor to revisit the place where I was almost killed?” Garak leaned across the table to lay one big hand gently across Bashir’s forehead. “Are you certain you haven’t caught a fever from one of those damned Tellerites?”

     The young doctor jerked his head away impatiently. “Come on, Elim! Unless you face your fears, you’ll never overcome them. It’s just like riding a horse. If you get thrown off, you have to climb right back on again.”

     “What an absurd idea!” declared Garak. “If the horse dislikes me enough to throw me off, I see no reason to give it another chance to do so.”

     “Elim Garak, are you a man or a mouse?” Bashir demanded.

     Garak picked up the menu and made a show of perusing it. “All of a sudden I feel an urge to order a cheese omelet.” At Bashir’s snort of disgust, he looked up and smiled. “I’m sorry, Julian, but I am what I am. A plain and simple tailor, who once was a member of the Cardassian military. My experience in the military was what drove me to become a tailor, so that I would never have to see snow and ice or feel the cold again.”

     “You didn’t seem to mind those things when you were with me in the holosuite yesterday.”

     “That’s because I was with you,” Garak told him softly. “I would never choose such a program myself, but being with you helps me to overlook such discomforts.” He petted the human’s nearest knee under the table as he spoke.

     Despite the pleasure Garak’s touch gave him, Bashir kept his arms folded on the table as he looked across it challengingly. “If you’re willing to share these ‘discomforts’ with me in a holosuite program, you should be just as willing to share them with me in reality.”

     “Dear boy, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you or with you,” Garak assured him, “except go among my old enemies to relive a wartime experience I would rather forget.”

     Bashir pushed his half-eaten lunch away and reached for his coffee. “Really, Garak, you’re being such a wimp about this!”

     “If by that you mean cowardly, I plead guilty. I’m no longer in the military, so I have nothing to lose by admitting it.” Garak raised a forkful of green pasta to his mouth.

     “Except my respect,” Bashir muttered into his coffee cup.

     “What?” Garak’s fork froze halfway to his mouth.

     Speaking in a low voice, Bashir said, “How do you expect me to feel about someone who claims to love me, yet passes up a chance to spend a whole weekend with me? After Kira was nice enough to invite us both, too.”

     “Pardon me, dear boy, but I believe the original invitation only included you,” Garak retorted rather sharply. “Frankly, I’d prefer it if you didn’t go either.”

     “Why not?” Bashir demanded.

     “Because I haven’t felt comfortable seeing you and Kira together since I learned about that little interlude you had, during the Bajoran Gratitude Festival a couple of months ago.”

     “What interlude?” Bashir tried to look innocent despite the red color rising to his cheeks.

     “You know perfectly well what interlude!” Garak whispered as he leaned forward, glaring menacingly. “Just because I spent the whole day secluded in my quarters doesn’t mean I don’t know what went on! Quark told me that when you failed to respond to Captain Sisko’s summons, he sent Odo to the Infirmary to fetch you, and he found you and Kira wrapped around each other! He also said that when you two got to the Wardroom where Sisko was holding his Gratitude Dinner, you couldn’t keep your hands off each other!”

     “Oh, really? Did Quark also tell you that he couldn’t keep his hands off Keiko O’Brien?” Bashir demanded indignantly. “And that Vedek Bareil was chasing Dax, who was all over Commander Sisko? We all had Zanthi Fever, for heaven’s sake! Thanks to Lwaxana Troi, the Betazoid Ambassador; it made her project her feelings of love for Odo onto whoever was in the vicinity.”

     “And did it make all of you fall in love with whoever was in the vicinity?”

     “Well, not exactly. I mean, there would have to be some pre-existing latent attraction between the two parties involved...” Garak glared at him more fiercely than before, causing him to blush again. “Elim, I swear to you, nothing happened between Kira and me that day except a few passionate kisses.”

     “And you felt nothing for her after the Zanthi Fever wore off?” Garak asked skeptically.

     “Nothing whatsoever!” Bashir assured him. “Don’t you remember I spent the next two nights with you?”

     “Yes, but was that love or guilt? If it weren’t for Quark, I never would have known about your little interlude. I can forgive you for it, since it happened while you were under the influence of Zanthi Fever. But if anything should happen between you and Kira this weekend, I will never forgive you.”

     Bashir gave him a hurt look. “Don’t you trust me, Elim?”

     “You’ve just admitted to a pre-existing latent attraction for Kira. How can I possibly trust you alone with her now?”

     “The same way you trusted me before Quark blabbed to you about the Gratitude Festival! It won’t happen again, Elim, I promise!”

     “You can make sure it doesn’t happen by not going with her this weekend.”

     “But I already promised her! If you don’t trust me, why don’t you come along with us?”

     “Won’t that be cozy,” Garak sneered. “You, me, and Major Kira under the same roof?”

     “Her brother and his family will be there too,” Bashir reminded him.

     “Oh, how nice! A whole family of Bajorans giving me dirty looks and insulting me the entire weekend. You certainly know how to arrange a romantic getaway, dear boy.”

     “I’ve had it with you!” Bashir hissed furiously. “If you can’t stand the cold, stay here in the station and let me enjoy a weekend of snow and skating with Kira! If you don’t trust me, then come down to Bajor with us! But don’t try to ruin it for me!”

     He started to get up, but Garak grasped him by one shoulder, forcing him to remain seated so he could whisper in his ear. “If you really loved me, you wouldn’t go to Bajor without me!”

     Bashir looked at Garak as if he were about to pour his bowl of Vulcan plomeek soup over his head. “Don’t you dare try to order me around, Elim Garak!” he warned him softly. “You’re not in Starfleet and you don’t outrank me, so just lay off!”

     “Fine, then!” Garak snapped. “Go with that red-headed Bajoran hussy tomorrow! I hope you and she are very happy together!”

     “And I hope you’re happy spending the weekend alone!” Bashir shook his hand off, jumped up and kicked his chair out of the way as he left the Replimat. Garak sat looking after him, feeling as lonely as he used to be before they met.

********

     Later that night Bashir was in his quarters, packing things to take to Bajor with him. As he was trying to decide between a mohair sweater and a cashmere one, he heard the door buzzer. Laying a sweater on either side of his navy blue Starfleet-issue duffel bag, he went to the door and pressed the intercom.

     “Yes, who is it?”

     “It’s me,Julian,” came Garak’s voice. “May I come in, please?”

     “Not if you’re here to try to talk me out of going to Bajor,” Bashir warned him.

     “I’m not here to argue, Julian. Please let me in.”

     Bashir emitted a sigh of exasperation. He was in no mood for any more arguing. Ne was still so upset by all the things they had said to each other at lunch, he’d had no appetite for dinner. “All right, Elim,” he said into the intercom. “But mind your tongue or you’re out of here!” He pushed the “Open Door” button.

     The door swooshed open to reveal Garak standing there, holding a drab green Cardassian military duffel bag in one hand.

     “What’s that for?” Bashir asked.

     “For me, of course, while we’re on Bajor,” Garak replied as he strode into the doctor’s quarters. “I’d look pretty silly trying to wear your clothes.”

     Bashir gaped at him in surprise as the door whisked shut. “Do you mean you’ve changed your mind?”

     “Yes, I have.” Garak set the bag down and turned to face him. “Unless you’ve changed your mind about having me along?”

     “No, no, of course not! Oh, Elim!” Bashir threw his arms around him and hugged him happily. “I’m so glad you changed your mind! This means so much to me!”

     “I know it does,” Garak said gruffly, hugging him with special tenderness. “That’s the only reason why I’m accompanying you to Bajor in the dead of winter, where I’ll be surrounded by that nasty white stuff I hate and by people who hate me.”

     “I don’t hate you, Elim. Neither will they, once they get to know you.”

     “I don’t give a damn what anyone else thinks of me. All I care about is what you think of me.”

     “I think you’re the most wonderful being in the universe. And I love you.”

     “I love you, too.” Garak held him close, stroking the curling, dark hair at the nape of his neck as he thought: _*But I still don’t trust that red-headed Bajoran hussy! I’d rather be dunked in a dozen frozen lakes than leave you alone with her!*_

*******

The ride on the Bajoran shuttle was only fifteen minutes long, but it seemed like an eternity to Bashir, who found himself that Friday morning at the rear of the craft sandwiched between his Bajoran friend Kira on the aisle and his Cardassian lover Garak by the window. Both responded to remarks made by Bashir, but neither of them had a thing to say to each other. Whenever Bashir spoke to Kira, Garak would stare at her coldly, giving her what humans call “the hairy eyeball” and Bajorans refer to as “snake eyes”. It got so bad that at one point Kira whispered to Bashir, “Tell your snake-eyed friend that if he doesn’t quit staring at me like that, I’ll toss him out the nearest airlock and he can walk the rest of the way to Bajor!”

     “I’m sorry, Nerys,” Bashir whispered back, greatly embarrassed. “He doesn’t trust you since Quark told him about what happened between us at the Gratitude Festival.”

     “Remind me to wring Quark’s neck,” she muttered. “And remind Garak that if I wanted to seduce you, I certainly wouldn’t have invited him along!”

     When they finally reached the surface of Bajor, as they disembarked with the rest of the passengers Garak kept a firm grip on Bashir’s arm, ostensibly to keep from being separated from him in the crowd. Kira maintained a stony silence as she led them to the transporter station, reserved for Starfleet personnel and members of the Bajoran militia.

     While they were waiting on line, Garak pulled up the hood of his quilted brown parka. As he was wrapping the matching scarf around his neck, Kira suddenly remembered something and started digging through her duffel bag. She pulled out a long, bright yellow knitted scarf. “My brother sent it to me,” she told Bashir as she wrapped it around her head and neck and tossed the ends over the back of her scarlet uniform jacket. “His wife wanted to make sure I didn’t get cold.”

     “It looks very nice,” Bashir told her gallantly, earning himself a dirty look from Garak. The embarrassed human quickly pulled up the hood of his navy blue Starfleet-issued parka, wishing he had a scarf to wrap around his face to hide his red cheeks.

     When it was their turn, the Bajoran transporter operator asked them, “Where and how many, please?”

     “Three to Dahkar.” Kira produced her military I.D. card. The operator punched in her serious number, followed by the number of people to be transported. He gave Garak a doubtful look as they stepped up onto the platform, but said nothing.

     Moments later, they reintegrated on a road in a snow-covered Bajoran countryside. The road had been recently plowed, much to the travelers’ relief. Kira walked silently ahead of her companions, leading them to the village where her family lived. Garak marched stoically alongside Bashir, carrying his duffel bag, so bundled up that you would have had to look him right in the face to know that he was a Cardassian.

     The road widened as they neared the village, allowing them to walk three abreast, with the human sandwiched in between the Bajoran and the Cardassian again. Tired of hearing nothing but the snow grinding beneath their feet, Bashir tried to make small talk with Kira.

     “How far are we from the village?”   

     “About twenty minutes’ walk,” she answered shortly, keeping her eyes on the road as she plodded along with her duffel bag slung over one shoulder.

     “Which one of your brothers will we be staying with?”

     “My oldest brother, Nabor.”

     “Does he look like you?”

     Garak chose that moment to remark, “All Bajorans look alike to me.”

     “Funny, that’s how I feel about all Cardassians!” Kira retorted.

     “I am not like all Cardassians,” Garak said coldly, looking at the snowy countryside rather than her.

     “You certainly aren’t. Most of your people have the sense not to return to Bajor.”

     “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for Julian. As far as I’m concerned, he is the only thing we have in common.”

     “Well, at least you two have _something_ in common!” Bashir said with forced cheerfulness. Neither Kira nor Garak responded, forcing Bashir to retreat into embarrassed silence.

     Coming to a bend in the road, they heard the sound of children’s voices ahead. When they came around the bend, they saw a frozen lake and six Bajoran children playing on it, sliding across the ice on their boots, laughing and calling to each other as they waved their arms to keep their balance. Some of them fell on their faces or their backsides, causing even more laughter. Lagging behind the others was a tiny girl in a bright green snowsuit, with blonde hair peeking out from beneath her white knitted cap. She looked about four years old. Waving her green-mittoned hands, she laughed as she slid along the ice being the older children.

     Bashir couldn’t help smiling at the sight of the children playing on the ice. “That looks like fun,” he told Kira.

     “Sure does,” Kira agreed with a smile. “I think I know some of those kids. That looks like Mana Loa’s son in the orange jacket. That big girl in the purple hood looks like Ros Madder’s oldest. And that boy in the black coat—”

     While she was speaking, Bashir glanced at Garak and saw that he was standing like a statue, staring silently at the frozen lake. “Elim, what’s wrong?” he asked.

     “This is it,” Garak whispered. “This is the lake where it happened.” Sweat broke out on his pale forehead, despite the cold.

     “Kira,” Bashir said to her anxiously, “is this lake a tributary of the Zulimon River?”

     “Yes, this is the lake where we—surprised the Cardassians,” said Kira, trying to be kind for Bashir’s sake. “Don’t worry, we won’t have to cross the lake. The village is on this side. We should be there in ten minutes.”

     “Hear that, Elim? Soon we’ll be home and dry.” Bashir petted his arm reassuringly. “Come on, let’s go. Leave the children to their games.”

     But Garak didn’t move. He stood there on the shore of the frozen lake, his eyes wide with silent terror, feeling sick inside as old memories flashed through his head. His entire unit, all his friends, even that hot-headed young Gul Duran, all dead, all except for him and the other two, who didn’t survive the pneumonia brought on by their icy bath. He started shaking all over as Bashir tugged futilely on his arm, trying to get him to move. “Elim, come on! What’s wrong with you?”

     “I think he’s having a flashback,” said Kira, who recognized the symptoms. “A lot of Bajoran veterans have them too, whenever they come upon a site where they fought a battle with heavy casualties.”

     “Elim, it’s all right,” Bashir said gently. “You’re all right now. Nobody’s going to lure you out on the lake. You’re perfectly safe.” When he still wouldn’t move, Bashir told Kira, “Come on, take hold of his arm on your side. We’re going to have to lead him between us.”

     “All right.” Despite her dislike of the Cardassian, Kira couldn’t help feeling sorry for him as she saw him shaking in his boots at the sight of the lake where he was nearly drowned all those years ago. She got a good grip on his left arm and Bashir got a hold on his right, but when they tried to lead him away, Garak dug in his heels.

     “No!” he panted. “Not on the lake! Please, not on the lake! The ice is breaking! It’s breaking!” They could feel the muscles in his arms becoming rock-hard beneath his heavy clothing as he resisted their efforts to move him.

     “No, Elim, the ice is not breaking! It’s perfectly safe!”

     “Come on, Garak,” Kira said encouragingly. “We’re not trying to take you out on the lake, we’re leading you away from it!”

     Just then they all heard a loud cracking sound.

     ‘What was that?” said Kira.

     “The ice!” Bashir cried. “My God, the ice IS breaking! Get those children off it!”

     The children kept on playing, the sound of their laughter having drowned out the sound of the ice breaking. Kira dropped her bag, ran to the edge of the lake and waved her arms to get their attention. “Children!” she cried. “Get off the ice! It’s breaking up!”

     The children stared uncertainly at her until another loud crack resounded. This time they heard it. After one brief glance at the cracks spreading through the ice beneath their feet, they shrieked and ran for the safety of the shore.

     “Hurry! Hurry!” Kira urged them. “Get off the ice!”

     “Run, kids, run!” Bashir shouted.

     The tiny girl in the green snowsuit was still lagging behind the others as she ran awkwardly across the slippery ice. Another loud crack rang out as the ice opened up beneath her and she fell into the freezing water.

     The other children made it safely to shore.   A couple tried to turn back to help the little girl, but Kira grabbed them and said, “No, no! Don’t go back out there! Run to the village! Tell them we need help! Hurry!” She went them running after the other children and stared helplessly at the tiny blonde girl, who was holding onto the edge of the broken ice and crying for her mother.

     “Oh, Prophets! What shall we do?” Kira prayed for guidance.

     Bashir, not content to wait upon divine intervention, dropped his bag and ran out onto the lake. Seeing him running onto the breaking ice made Garak snap out of his trance. “Julian!” he cried. “Don’t go out there!” He started to follow him, but Kira grabbed him and dug her heels into the snow to hold him back.

     “Don’t be a fool!” she snapped. “Can’t you see the ice isn’t strong enough to hold two adults? Julian’s lighter than you, he has a better chance of making it there and back with the child!”

     They both watched anxiously as Bashir slid across the ice, letting his own momentum carry him to the edge of the hole where the child clung. When he got there, he dropped to his knees. The tiny girl wept as she held out her arms to him imploringly. Bashir scooped her up into his arms and scooted backwards on his knees, looking over his shoulder at his friends.

     “That’s it, Julian! Come on!” Kira called to him.

     “Please get back here, Julian!” Garak pleaded.

     Bashir smiled at them, then turned his attention to the little girl, who was sobbing into his shoulder. He spoke to her comfortingly as he continued scooting backwards on his knees. But while he was still about six feet away from safety, the ice broke beneath him, casting him and the child into the water.

     “No-o-o-o!” Kira wailed.

     “JULIAN!” Garak bellowed. His heart felt as if it would burst as he saw his nightmare coming true before his eyes. The only being he cared about in the entire universe, the only one who cared for him since he had been sent into exile, was being taken from him. He could not allow that to happen. He took off the long, brown scarf he was wearing and flexed it between his hands. Yes, it would do. “Give me your scarf!” he told Kira and snatched it from around her head and neck.

     “What are you doing?” she demanded.

     “Making a rope.” He tied the brown and yellow scarves together, pulling the knot tight to make sure it would hold.

     “Are you crazy?” Kira asked incredulously. “That’s never going to hold!”

     “It’ll keep our heads above water until help arrives. Now find me a tree or boulder to tie this to, or I’ll wrap it around your neck!”

     Kira quickly looked around and spotted a tree stump near the edge of the water. She pointed it out to Garak, who ran over and tied the knotted scarves around it. “Garak, don’t do this!” she tried to dissuade him. “Wait until help arrives!”

     “I can’t wait! That’s my Julian out there!” He gave the improvised rope one final tug, then walked slowly backwards onto the frozen lake, holding onto his feeble lifeline. Kira watched him go, her eyes full of tears. She had never seen a Cardassian perform an act of unselfish bravery before.

     “Elim, go back!” Bashir cried as he approached. “Go back!”

     “Shut up, boy! I’m rescuing you!” Garak growled. He heard the ice breaking under his feet and dropped to his knees, crawling backwards the rest of the way. When he reached the edge of the hole, he leaned over as far as the rope would let him and told Bashir, “Hand me the child.”

     Bashir lifted the child up and Garak grabbed her with his free hand. When the child saw he was a Cardassian, she screamed in terror and struggled feebly to get away. “No, no, it’s all right!” Bashir told her. “He’s my friend, he won’t hurt you!”

     “He’s a Cardassian!” wailed the tiny girl. “Momma says they eat bad children!”

     “No, we don’t!” Garak told her. “Not since the war ended, anyway. Hush up, silly child! Here, take this rope and follow it back to shore. Our friend Major Kira is waiting for you there. She’s one of your people, so you can trust her. Go on, now.” He put her little hands on the makeshift rope and pushed her gently across the cracking ice. “Stay on your knees, don’t try to walk across the ice. Go on, Major Kira’s waiting for you.”

     The tiny girl crawled across the ice on her knees, holding onto the rope as she headed for Kira’s waiting arms. Garak waited until he saw Kira snatch her up; as soon as her weight was off the rope, he turned back to Bashir and said, “Your turn, Julian.”

     Bashir held out his arms as trustingly as the child had done. Garak swallowed hard to get the lump out of his throat as he reached for him. He lifted him out of the hole in the ice, then scooted backwards toward the shore. But their combined weight made the ice break under them, casting them both into the freezing water.

     When Kira saw them fall into the water, she started screaming. “Help! Help! Somebody help us!”

     “Shut up!” Garak bellowed at her, holding his lover’s head above water. “Don’t just stand there screeching, woman! Run for help!”

     Kira took off, clutching the child to her breast. Garak tried to pull himself and Bashir up onto the ice, but it kept breaking beneath them. He was treading water, so he knew it couldn’t be very deep. But he was extremely cold, and he was a Cardassian—a reptilian race that had never adapted to cold. Turning on his back, he floated on the frigid water holding Julian on his breast. He could feel his arms and legs going numb as the water soaked through his layers of clothing, leeching away his body heat.

     “Julian,” he said, his voice starting to slur, “hold onto the rope. Climb over me. Save yourself.”

     “No!” Bashir clutched him determinedly as he looked into his eyes, his own amber-brown eyes wide and tearful as a child’s. “Hang on, Elim! Hang on until help arrives!”

     “I can’t. Getting sleepy. Can’t stay awake much longer. Not wearing insulated suit this time.” Garak felt a strange sense of peace coming over him as his body went numb. It felt so good to just yield to the cold, let it take him, put him to sleep. Endless sleep that would put an end to all of his terrible memories of the war, the loneliness he’d endured in exile, the fruitless longing for revenge. All those things seemed so unimportant now, compared to the brief happiness he’d known since this human came into his life. He only wished they could have had more time together, to create some more good memories for Julian to cherish after he was gone.

     “Goodbye, Julian,” he managed to say as the darkness rose before his eyes, adding “I love you” before the darkness overcame him.

     “Elim!” he heard Julian sobbing. “Elim, don’t go!” That was the last thing he heard.

********  

     Garak woke up to find himself in a warm, dimly-lit room, lying in a big bed covered with blankets. He stared at the ceiling for a while, disoriented, trying to reconcile the last thing he remembered with what he was seeing now.

     _*Didn’t I die? I know that I was freezing to death and I said goodbye to Julian. Was it only a nightmare, after all? Then why am I not in my own quarters? And where’s Julian?*_ He lifted one arm from beneath the covers and saw that he was wearing his own nightshirt. He fingered the quilt on top of the other two blankets covering him and recognized the Bajoran pattern. Then he heard a soft sound coming from the corner and turned his head to the right.

     “Julian!” he said joyfully. The good doctor was dosing on a stool in the corner, wearing jeans and a coffee-colored sweater.

     At the sound of Garak’s voice, Bashir sat up, blinking sleepily, rubbed his eyes and smiled at him. “Good, you’re awake.” He got up and went over to the bed. “How do you feel?”

     “Surprised,” Garak admitted. “I didn’t think I was good enough to deserve heaven. But you’re here, so it must be heaven. Did we both die?”

     Bashir laughed. “No, my love, we both survived and we’re in Kira Nabor’s house. That’s Nerys’ oldest brother, you remember.”

     “I remember. What happened after I lost consciousness?”

     “Let me examine you first.” Bashir produced his medical tricorder and ran it over him expertly. The readings made him smile again. “Good, your body temperature is back to normal. There doesn’t appear to be any brain damage, so I guess you were only sleeping after all.”

     “Dear boy, I was hibernating. That’s what happens when you lower a Cardassian’s body temperature so abruptly.”

     “You were not only hibernating, you were hypothermic. If we hadn’t gotten you inside and into a hot bath, you never would have woken up.”

     “A hot bath?” An expression of dismay came over Garak’s scaled features. “Good heavens, Julian, how many of these Bajorans have seen me naked?”

     “Not many. Only the men of the house,” Bashir assured him. “They needed all four of them to lift you into the tub. I would have helped them, but I was being forced into another tub by the ladies.”

     “Was one of them Major Kira?” Garak demanded suspiciously.

     Bashir laughed again. “No, my jealous one, her grandmother and two elderly aunts. And the village vedek to chaperone us. He’s also the village scribe and he wanted our story firsthand, so I had to tell him everything while I was soaking the chills away.”

     “Well, do you intend to tell me now? Or must I wait for the good vedek’s account to appear in print?”

     “I’ll tell you everything, Garak.” Bashir sat on the side of the bed and began stroking his lover’s thick, black hair. “After you passed out, I kept trying to lift you up and over the edge of the hole, but the ice kept breaking under you. We were close enough to shore so that I could feel my feet touching bottom, but by then my arms were too numb to lift you; all I could do was hold you up and keep your head above water. It was so frustrating to know that we were so close to safety; I couldn’t believe we were going to drown in less than five feet of water.

     “That’s when the cavalry arrived. A bunch of people from the village, sent by the children we had rescued first. They met Kira along the way, as she was running there with the child. At first they thought she had rescued the child on her own, but when she told them we had done so and were now in trouble ourselves, they went on to the lake while she took the child to the nearest house. After making sure she was okay, she came back to the lake to see about us.

     “Meanwhile, I was trying to tie that rope of scarves around you. But between my numb arms and your dead weight, I wasn’t making much progress. I’m afraid I called you a great many names, my love, cursing you for being unconscious and unable to assist me.”

     “You must tell me what you said later,” Garak told him as he rubbed Bashir’s blue-jeaned thigh. “I’m interested in knowing whether you repeated any of the things I say to you in Cardassian at the height of passion.”

     “I may have said a thing or two in Cardassian,” Bashir admitted teasingly. “But believe me, I was not in a loving mood when I said them. Then I saw all these people running towards us and I stopped swearing and started yelling for help. The next thing I knew, a ladder was being shoved out to us and a red-haired Bajoran man was crawling across it with a real rope. He looked vaguely familiar, but I didn’t know why. He passed the rope under your armpits and started to haul you out. Then he saw your face and said ‘He’s a Cardassian!’ For a minute, I thought he was going to throw you back in.

     “I told him, ‘This Cardassian just saved a Bajoran child from drowning!’ And he said, ‘Did he? I suppose we owe him, then.’ He finished pulling you out and dragged you to shore across the ladder, none too gently, I thought. Then he came back for me. By that time, Kira had returned and was explaining to everybody that it was the Cardassian who had rescued the child after I came to grief trying to do so. I backed up her story, told them you were my friend and demanded that they take us both to a warm place, where I would look after you if they were unwilling to do so. The red-haired man who had saved us said that anybody who risked his life for a child’s sake couldn’t be all bad, and he urged his people to tend to us both without prejudice.

     “I was so relieved when they finally put you on a stretcher and covered you with blankets. Somebody had thrown a blanket around me, but I was still shivering like a wet dog. On our way to the village, I saw the red-haired man talking to Kira and it finally dawned on me why he looked so familiar. I went up to them and said, ‘You’re one of Kira’s brothers, aren’t you? Which one are you?’ He said, ‘I’m Kira Nando,’ and I started laughing and couldn’t stop.”

     “Why did you find the name of the major’s brother so amusing?” asked a puzzled Garak. When Bashir had finished explaining to him, he looked grim and said, “Well, I suppose we’re even now.”

     “I thought you would appreciate the irony.” By now Bashir was lying on the bed beside him, nuzzling him affectionately. “Are you hungry yet? Kira’s helping them make dinner.”

     “I don’t have much of an appetite for food.” Putting his hand on the back of Bashir’s head, Garak pushed it down and kissed him. The younger man returned the kiss with enthusiasm, snuggling up to him in a way that raised Garak’s hopes, among other things.

     They were interrupted by a polite “Ahem!” from the doorway, as Kira cleared her throat. Bashir immediately sat up, his face flushed red, while Garak gave her a dirty look.

     “Great timing, Major!” he told her sarcastically.

     Kira smiled apologetically as she leaned against the doorframe. “Sorry to interrupt.” She was wearing a full-length blue skirt and a white blouse embroidered with tiny red flowers. “I heard your voices out in the hall, so I knew you were awake. Guess I don’t have to ask how you feel, Garak.”

     “Perfectly fine, my dear. Now if you’ll just close that door behind you when you go—”

     “Elim!” Bashir reproached him for his lack of manners.

     “Don’t you want to hear the rest of the story?” asked Kira.

     “What story?” asked Garak.

     “What happened while you were sleeping.”

     “Were you eavesdropping, you Bajoran hussy?” he said indignantly.

     Kira laughed. “That’s a fine way for a hero to talk!”

     “A hero? Me?”

     “Yes, saving that child has made you the Hero of Dahkur. Her parents are very grateful—”

     “Oh, really?” Garak interrupted. “Grateful enough to offer me a choice between her hand in marriage, or the equivalent of her dowry in cash?”

     “You know that’s not a Bajoran custom,” she reminded him.

     “What a pity,” he sighed. “I could have used the cash to expand my shop. I certainly don’t need a child bride.”

     “Looks to me like you already have one,” Kira said, smiling at Bashir, who proceeded to blush again.

     “Is that a comment about my age?” Garak demanded.

     “Do the words ‘cradle robber’ mean anything to you?” said Kira with a grin.

     Garak pushed Bashir gently aside as he rose from the bed, only to sit back down with a muffled groan. Bending over to massage his cold, numb feet, he muttered savagely, “If my feet weren’t still frozen, I’d go over there and teach you some respect for your elders!”

     “Watch it, Garak! Both my surviving brothers are under this roof. Besides, in the shape you’re in, my grandmother could beat you up.”

     Garak was forced to agree with her as his frostbitten feet began to ache with returning circulation. Bashir helped him back into bed and covered him up as he told Kira, “You really should speak more respectfully to the Hero of Dahkur.”

     “I beg your pardon.” She bowed mockingly. “But seriously, Garak, saving that child was the smartest thing you could have done. It’s bound to improve relations between Bajorans and Cardassians, now that we have the new peace treaty. It’s certainly guaranteed you VIP treatment here in this village.”

     “Well, had I only known that being nice to your children was the best way to improve my image among you Bajorans, I would have started kissing babies long ago. I wonder why I never thought of it before?” Garak mused.

     “Perhaps because you were never in politics?” Bashir suggested.

     “Speaking of kissing,” Kira said slyly, “would you two like to have dinner now, or would you prefer to resume your previous activity?”

     Before Garak could answer, Bashir spoke up authoritatively. “Major, I’m afraid I cannot permit my patient to leave his bed so soon. Those frostbitten feet of his require special attention.”

     “Oh, of course! Forgive me, Doctor. Why don’t I leave you two alone for an hour, so you can examine your patient more thoroughly?”

     “That’ll be fine,” Bashir said hastily. “Please thank your family for their hospitality and ask them to save us some dinner. And close the door behind you.”

     “Yes, Doctor.” Kira smiled knowingly as she did so.

     “Well, Doctor,” Garak said when they were alone, “just how do you intend to warm my feet?”

     Bashir smiled as he began to undress. When he was naked, he crawled beneath the covers with Garak and they resumed the pleasurable activity they had been engaged in before Kira’s interruption, their limbs entwining as they wrapped themselves around each other. Bashir enjoyed the slight rasping sensation of Garak’s scaly legs against his own smooth limbs; it was no more irritating than the hairy legs of some of his previous human lovers.

     “I must say I like your methods,” Garak commented between kisses.

     “So do I,” Bashir murmured, burrowing into his lover’s breast like a nursing child. The smell of freshly laundered linen was pleasant, but not as pleasant as his Cardassian lover’s own wood smoke-and-musk scent. As he unbuttoned the nightshirt at Garak’s throat he asked, “Why did you bring this along, anyway? When I found it in your bag, I made them put it on you for more warmth. But what made you pack it in the first place?”

     “I wasn’t certain we’d be allowed to sleep together,” Garak admitted. “I wanted to be sure I was warm, even if I couldn’t have you in bed with me.”

     “Well, you’ve got me,” Bashir told him, grinning fondly. “For the entire weekend.”

     “Julian—do they know about us?” It embarrassed Garak to have Bajorans know so much about his private life. It was bad enough they had seen him naked.

     “Of course they do. Look over there.” Bashir nodded to his left. Garak looked off to that side and saw both their duffel bags sitting side by side in the corner by the stool where Bashir had been sitting. “When I told Nabor I wanted to share this room with you, he told me that there was only room for one bed and he couldn’t imagine anybody wanting to share a bed with a Cardassian, unless they were lovers. So I admitted that’s what we were. He was surprised, but not shocked. Apparently same-sex couples in Bajoran society are common enough to take them for granted.”

     “What else can you expect from a race that doesn’t even require celibacy of its clergy?” Garak grumbled.

     “At least they don’t execute homosexuals like they do on your world!” Bashir retorted.

     Humbled by the knowledge that the Bajorans were more civilized than his own people, at least as far as people’s private lives were concerned, Garak hugged him close. “Forgive me, Julian. I should be grateful to find Kira’s family so accepting of our relationship. But even that wouldn’t have been enough to make them accept me as a person, if I hadn’t helped you save that child. You know why I really did it, don’t you?”

     “Yes, I know why you really saved the child.” Bashir stroked his eye ridges lovingly. “You were afraid her weight would drag me down under the ice faster.”

     “Yes, that’s why I made her go ashore first. If you hadn’t gone out there to rescue her yourself, I don’t think I would have had the courage to do it alone. I did it for you, Julian. Because I couldn’t bear to lose you.” Garak closed his eyes in shame, not wanting to see how disgusted his lover was by his cowardice.

     Bashir continued to stroke his horny eye ridges as if nothing was wrong. “Silly man,” he murmured, “do you think I care why you really saved that child? Do you think her parents care why you did it?  It doesn’t matter if you do a good deed for the wrong reason, Garak, as long as you do it. Doing it for a selfish reason doesn’t make it any less of a good deed. You saved a child’s life while you were trying to save mine, and because of that, you and every other Cardassian who visits this village will now be treated with the same courtesy that all sentient beings are entitled to."     

              Garak opened his blue eyes to look into his human lover’s amber-brown ones. They looked on him just as lovingly as before. “You and your damned human compassion,” Garak said, trying to sound gruff but not succeeding too well. “You would justify anything I did, wouldn’t you?”

     “Anything short of murder,” Bashir cheerfully assured him.

     “That’s good, because I would die for you. Or kill for you. You know that, don’t you?”

     “Right now, I’m not asking you to do anything except make love to me.” Bashir reached inside the open collar of his nightshirt and began rubbing his neck ridges. Pleasant shudders shook Garak’s stocky frame as his grip on Bashir’s slender form tightened in response. He pulled him close and kissed him, long, hard, and hungrily as their bodies became entwined once more.

     As he fondled the smooth, brown body in his arms, Garak felt his nightshirt being pulled up to his waist and his rapidly hardening cock being taken into warm, gentle hands. As Bashir stroked him into full erection, he reached for the younger man’s member and returned the favor. Mutual moans of pleasure were muffled against moist mouths and necks, as clear fluid began to seep from the heads of both cocks, one black, one brown. When Garak felt his lover’s balls contract, he knew he was on the verge of orgasm. He let go of him and burrowed beneath the covers until he found what he was looking for. Taking Bashir’s cock into his mouth, he sucked it eagerly.

     Bashir sighed with contentment as he felt himself taken into a hot, wet mouth. He ran his fingers through Garak’s hair as he was sucking, grateful not to have come too soon so his lover could have the pleasure of getting him off. It didn’t take long before he came into Garak’s mouth. He was able to hold back a cry of joy as he was sucked dry, though he had to bite his lower lip to do so. As he lay in bed, warm and happy with the afterglow of orgasm, feeling Garak’s head resting on his belly beneath the covers, he started wondering how his lover intended to get himself off.

     He didn’t have to wonder too long. Garak emerged from beneath the covers, kissed him and rolled him over gently on his stomach. He started by rubbing his back, working his way down to the firm, brown buttocks, which he kneaded lovingly. Bashir spread his legs in response, silently inviting his lover to mount him. He felt Garak spread his ass cheeks, and then gasped as he felt a hot, wet tongue probing the entrance to his body. As Garak prepared him for penetration, Bashir stifled his moans in one of the pillows, shoving his face into the crisp, white linen pillowcase that smelled faintly of fragrant herbs. A small part of his mind wondered what kind of herbs the Bajorans used to keep linens fresh in storage; the greater part of his mind was preoccupied with the sensations of pleasure Garak was bestowing on him.

     Abruptly, Garak ceased tongue-fucking him and clambered over his prone form, hitching his nightshirt up to his waist before lying on top of him. Bashir felt a brief, raw pain as the Cardassian’s thick, mushroom-shaped cockhead penetrated his moist depths. He bit the pillow as he let out a short, sharp cry. He felt Garak entering him slowly, inch by inch, until he was completely sheathed inside his eager ass. Then he felt him lying on his back, heard him panting with the effort it had taken him to keep from entering him with one quick, hard thrust. He had never treated his human lover so roughly, knowing how much more fragile he was than his previous lovers, all of them Cardassians.

     “Elim,” Bashir moaned softly.

     “Yes, my love? Are you all right?” Garak asked tenderly.

     “Yes—Yes, just—give me a moment.” Bashir breathed deep as his body adjusted to the thick, clublike member inside him.

     “Take as long as you want.” Garak was kissing the nape of his neck. “It feels so good just being inside you.”

     Bashir relaxed as he sensed Garak’s love for him, his desire held in check by his fear of hurting him. Gradually the pain ebbed away and he found himself enjoying the sensation of fullness, the feeling of being possessed. “Elim,” he moaned again, “fuck me now. Fuck me hard, please.”

     Garak obliged him with a series of slow and steady deep strokes that gradually became harder and faster. Bashir raised his hips to meet each thrust until he got too tired to move. Then all he could do was lie there and take it, moaning low as he hugged the pillow. Just when he thought he couldn’t take any more, his overstimulated prostate gland finally responded to the continuous stroking with a long-awaited orgasm. His rectal muscles clenched spasmodically as he climaxed, smothering his scream of ecstasy in the pillow. The sight of Julian’s pleasure and the sensation of having his cock squeezed inside his hot ass made Garak come as well. He nailed Julian to the bed with his final strokes, filled his gut with hot semen, and then collapsed across him.

     As they lay together recovering from their lovemaking, Garak murmured to Bashir, “I didn’t hear a word of Cardassian out of you. How disappointing.”

     Bashir couldn’t help laughing. “You didn’t have much to say either.”

     “I didn’t think it appropriate to be overheard speaking Cardassian in this house. I noticed you took care to be quiet too.”

     “Well, even heroes should be discreet.” Bashir stretched like a cat beneath him, then pushed upwards until Garak took the hint and rolled off of him. He lay on his side, enjoying the sight of his lover’s lithe, brown body stretched out beside him, covers pushed to one side. “I don’t know about you,” Bashir told him, “but I’m starting to feel hungry. Why don’t we get dressed and join Kira’s family at the table?”

     Garak, still unsure of his welcome among the Bajorans, came up with a plausible excuse. “My feet still feel too numb to stand on. Why don’t you go to dinner and make my excuses?”

     “Yes, I’m sure the whole family is anxiously awaiting news of your recovery. What a shame I can’t tell them how well you’ve recovered,” Bashir teased.

     Garak gave him a brief glare and a long-suffering sigh. “Is nothing sacred to you humans? First you let them see us both naked, then you tell them that we’re lovers. It wouldn’t surprise me at all to learn that you held the entire dinner table enthralled with a description of our lovemaking just now.”

     “Not in front of the vedek!” Bashir protested laughingly. “Certainly not in front of Kira’s grandmother and her aunts. I don’t know whether they’re maiden aunts, but a gentleman always gives a lady the benefit of the doubt.”

     “Well, see that you behave like a gentleman while you’re out there. Try not to embarrass me any more than you already have.”

     “Don’t worry,” said Bashir, sitting up and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. “I’ll just tell them that the Hero of Dahkur is taking a well-deserved rest after his labors. I won’t mention which labors.”

     Garak administered a well-deserved slap to the doctor’s bare bottom as he bent over the stool where he’d dropped his clothes. “Mind your mouth, boy!” he growled. “You’ll get worse than that if I find out you’ve been embarrassing me again. And bring me back some food if you expect to go on sharing this bed with me.”

     “Yes, master.” Bashir made a face at him to show him what he thought of his bullying. When he finished getting dressed, he leaned over and kissed him. “I’ll see you later, my love. Rest easy.”

     “Just remember what I told you and I will,” Garak grumbled. He unbent enough to kiss him back. “Enjoy your dinner. Be back soon.”

     “Yes, my love.” Bashir rested his cheek against Garak’s for a long moment before he rose. “I’ll bring you back a tray when I’ve finished my dinner. Stay under the covers and keep warm.”

     “Yes, Doctor,” Garak said with another long-suffering sigh, pulling the covers up to his chin. After Bashir left, he settled down on the right side of the bed, well away from the wet spot, and closed his eyes. _*I guess this will be a good weekend after all,*_ he thought as he drifted away into sleep.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  

    


End file.
